30 WHO STOLE.. MY GOLDE..N UNDIE..S? T HUMBS hooked into my waist- coat and feet squarely planted on the hearth, a sensation of utter beatitude flooding me from crown to toe, I stood in my new sublet at 61 Brasenose Mews in Mayfair that sunny autumn mornIng, a man at ease In Zion. Every detail fitted my precon- ception of the ideal flat for a three months' sojourn in London-the snug living room, with its Adam mantelpiece and well-polished brass, the delIcate mahogany oval of the dining table, the tasteful mirrors, the sparkling rows of glassware in the closet bar.. \Vhat if the tangerine lampshades and silver up- holstery were early E velvn Waugh, what If floral wallpaper had run riot in the bedrooms and the telephone lurked under a hoopskirted Dresden-cluna shepherdess? It al] evoked a certain nostalgia, as though Basil Seal and Brenda Last and Lady Metroland had circulated through these rooms and might be reincarnated at the parties 1 foresaw. Even Leatherby's, Ltd., the sales garage below that trafficked in opulent second-hand motors, struck the proper jaunty note, and, If further cachet were needed, my windows over- looked the rear entrance of Annabel's, the playground of the overprivileged. Yes, one might well preen himself at finding such a jewel, I reflected, think- ing back on the rookeries I had can- men t-and to plotest this ensla yemen t to a driver's whim, I was met with the same silken answer. "But surely you've staff there to cope with such de- . 1 "'\" h ld .." H tal sr s. e wou reJOIn. ow curI- ous! All the previous tenants at Sixty- one employed staff-Brigadier-General Pouncefoot, Viscountess Bulstrode, Ian Murrain of That Ilk, the Graf Fro- benius zu Strabismus. Well, in that case, I'm afraid we can't accept you as a client any further. So sorry.." At last, through the intercessIon of friends to whom my grievance was as- sumIng the proportions of paranoia, I was put in touch with an establishment that promised heartsease. Not only was Hackamore's in Kentish Town prompt and civil in handling my appli- cation but the leaflet enclosed in their initial delivery bespoke a desire to co- operate to the fullest. "For the con ven- ience of certain customers," declared the text, "laundry is sometimes collected from and dehvered to a prearranged place outside the security of tne cu"- tomer's home." The words lifted d weight from my spirit. Here was the per- fect solution to m} dilemma-a bunk or hIdeout known onl} to the two of us, where I could deposit or withdraw sans peur et sans reprochc. 1 fumbled the phone out of the Dresden-china shep- herdess, asked for the manager, and found him completely sympathetic. "1 see from your sponsor's letter that you enjoy guest privileges at the Garrick Cluh," he said. "Would you con- sider entrusting your bun d 1 e to th e hall porter there?" A presentiment of Iny- self for all the world like a Chagall peddlel airborne over the por- tals of the Garrick with a sackful of wash arose before me, and I demurred strongly. " Q . ." 1 lute, qUIte, le dC- knowledged. "Then how about some trades- , . . . man s In your VIcIn- ity? This bookshop in Curzon Street, where you've had an account for years?" " N . 1 0, no, cn tIre) out of the question," I saId. "Mr. Buchanan's a dear man, but I couldn't ask a biblio- phile to keep track of my shirts. I mean, it would be like asking a shirtmaker to-to look vassed in my search for a pied-à-terre. There was the basement den off the Fulham Road tenanted by two Picas- soesque giantesses in nightgowns who kept drunkenly beseechIng me, amid a reek of fish-and-chips, to applaud the shadow box they had evolved from an orange crate.. There was the sixth-floor aerie In Swiss Cottage Road, where a mad Rumanian graphologist resembling Zip the Dog-Faced Boy offered me a free handwriting analysis along with the lease. And the Primrose Hill bed- sitter, whose landlady admitted in a hurst of candor that her garden was frequently invaded by coypus, large South American aquatic rats from the Regent's Park Zoo nearby. Serene as my occupancy of Brase- nose Mews had been thus far, though, the truth was that one irritating dom stic complication had arisen-the refusal of every laundry I dealt with to collect and return my linen at a defi- nite, fixed time. Inexplicably, almost as if they feared prosecution under the Official Secrets Act, they an persisted in a tight-lipped silence about their schedules. Time and again, I wasted entire mornings waiting for vans that failed to materialize, fretting myself into a lather that seriously endangered my blood pressure.. Even when I man- aged to reach someone in authority- usually a female of awesome refine- dI I "'1#-\ 9 $'îr I!<' t;\ T[g)@: .t lr\WnçlHI [61b II [ . 11; 4i 0 :B@ e 0 . - - '- - \ ' '!.' ð "f , I 'f , /'-/.... '- J'G , "' " \ !!!! l .-..! - , .. - ----== --- 1Ujt fj{tIIItlrl(1Æ ç LI... /') \ / 1 / " : V þ "October 29, 1929 It started out a day ltke any other day. I had coddled eggs, bacon, and coffee for breakfast It was a brtsk day. I wore a ltght topcoat. . ." JUNE (" 1970